London, England
April 1820
Lady Atterley’s Ball
As he drew near, Lady Blessing turned, met his gaze, then narrowed her eyes as if to dare him to be foolish enough to take a step closer. He almost laughed. The lady didn’t realize just how much he loved a dare. He halted in front of her, bowed, then held out his hand. “Might I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Blessing?”
She opened her mouth to refuse. He saw it in her eyes. But then she stumbled forward and kept herself from falling by catching hold of his hand. “Seri!” she hissed as he swept her into his arms and out onto the floor before she could escape.
“Not Seri, my lady. Lord Knightwood, remember?” He couldn’t resist teasing her, knowing her sister had bumped her into play without a qualm about doing so.
“I am well aware of your name, my lord.” With every turn, she shot an infuriated glare back at her sister, who stood on the edge of the dance floor, smiling and nodding at her.
“For one so determined to avoid this waltz, you are perfection itself, my lady. I do not believe I have ever had the pleasure of such a talented partner.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes at his intentionally overdone flummery. “I did not wish to waltz.” She settled a tight-jawed scowl on him, thrilling him immensely. “I never said I couldn’t.”
“Indeed, you did not.” He breathed her in, intoxicated by the delightful combination of sweet lilacs and angry, yet desirable, young woman. “Earlier you mentioned an observatory?” he asked, noting how the tension left her at the mention of it.
“I did.”
He almost laughed again but prudently chose not to. It would surely anger her even more. The minx intended to make him work for a conversation that might sway her opinion of him. Admirable, indeed. “At home in your observatory,” he said, repeating the memory almost word for word. “Not many are fortunate enough to have access to their own private observatory.”
“Papa had it built for me.” Her voice had gone soft, filled with emotion, reminding him of her father’s recent passing.
“Forgive me, Lady Blessing. I did not mean to stir your sorrow on this lovely evening.”
“Think nothing of it, my lord. You had no way of knowing.” But the sheen of unshed tears in her lovely blue eyes was unmistakable. She lifted her chin and resettled her hand in his as they twirled across the floor. “You would have been better served had you asked Serendipity to dance,” she said after releasing a put-upon sigh. “I am not the one you want, Lord Knightwood.”
“On the contrary, Lady Blessing. You are the very one I want.”
Her gaze cut to him as if he had just slandered her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I meant no insult, my lady.”
She narrowed her eyes into a leery squint, then moved to step away from him, but he tightened his hold and kept her close.
“The music has stopped, my lord.” She arched a fair brow to a daunting angle that would frighten a lesser man.
With more regret than he had felt in a very long time when leaving a woman’s company, he released her, took a step back, and bowed.
With a curtsy so miserly he almost missed it, she turned to leave but paused and turned back. A corner of her mouth, so delectable and tempting, curled up the slightest bit in an unmistakable smile. “Next time,” she said, soft and low. “Seek Serendipity for a dance. You would be better served if you did so.”
“Nay, my lady,” he was quick to answer. “You are the Broadmere sister I want.”
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